


until the morning comes (to steal you away)

by heismysoulmate



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghost Hunters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Ghosts, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Is there a fluff? I'm not sure, M/M, One Shot, Paranormal Investigators, ghost!Patroclus, paranormal investigator!Achilles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 18:08:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20475335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heismysoulmate/pseuds/heismysoulmate
Summary: Where Achilles is a paranormal investigator (and he insist on using that term instead of 'ghost hunter'), who one day meets a friendly ghost from the neighbourhood.





	until the morning comes (to steal you away)

When people were asking Achilles why he became paranormal investigator he was always laughing it off, and saying that he's doing it for fun. That it's entertaining to go into abandoned, scary places when he's bored, and to listen to weird noises and imagine that someone, or _something_, is there with him.

The truth though, looked completely different.

Achilles could see ghosts.

During his rather short, because only seventeen years, life he saw a whole bunch of them. Some were just shadows in his peripheral vision. Some were whole figures, that were disappearing after a moment.

The real reason why he became paranormal investigator, and was spending most of his free time in weird places, was because he wanted to talk with ghosts.

Despite the fact that he saw them, he never talked to any. They were disappearing too fast for him to even say a word. He wasn't even sure that it was possible for him to talk with them, but he was hoping. And because of that, he was searching for a lost soul that would be willing to talk to him.

To no avail so far.

He was going to all the spooky places, and using his equipment, to discern if it really was haunted. After all, an EMF was way more sensitive than his eyes. Besides, he knew that ghosts sometimes stayed hidden to his eyes. If they didn't he would probably see a lot of them every day, and he didn't. So he was using the machines as a guideline, to know if place was really worth investigating (and honestly, most of them wasn't). And if he was getting any readings, or was lucky enough to see something, _someone_, he was trying to talk to them.

Achilles knew they were there, but they were never answering. He wondered, that maybe he couldn't just hear them, but his audio recorder was always full of the white noise. Using the Ghost Box didn't help either. He even went as far as using the Ouija board.

Nothing.

Ghost were just staying silent.

But he kept searching. And after many months, and visiting not only the popular spots, but also smaller places, like abandoned houses in the neighbourhood, or the places where a lot of people committed suicide, he discovered some pattern.

That is: the younger the ghosts, the better.

And it didn't have anything to do with at what age they died. When he was visiting places that were haunted from years, he was hardly seeing something. But in other locations, where the case was still fresh, and the person died not too long ago, he was almost every time seeing a whole figure. Once, when he was on his way to school, Achilles was passing the spot where some old lady died few days ago, in an accident, he saw said lady, and ghost even waved at him before disappearing.

After reaching this conclusion, he almost completely gave up on visiting the popular haunted places. He suspected that ghost living there were probably tired of all ghost hunters, and were staying hidden.

So he was keeping to more recent places. He was always eager to listen, when he heard about a new dead body. He knew it was probably weird, he was becoming obsessed with death. But he only wanted to talk to ghost, even once. Achilles couldn't accept that he was able to see them and not hear. He wanted to ask them about so many things! Why are they still here? Is everyone becoming ghost after death to just wander around? Is there anything he can do for them? Those questions were in his head for years, and he wanted, no, _needed_ to finally know the answers.

Because of that, one night he ended up in an empty house that was for sale.

The family that was living there was selling it, after the couple's son was murdered few weeks ago, during the robbery.

Achilles was trying to sneak in for some time, but there was a lot of police hanging around. But that night it was finally empty.

He picked the lock at the back door. If his father knew what kind of things he learned for his investigations, he would immediately take away all his equipment, and probably ground him.

Boy smiled to himself when the doors opened. That wasn't happening. He was gonna talk to ghosts sooner or later.

He was standing in the dark kitchen for a moment, his eyes accommodating to the darkness. He would rather not to use a flashlight, because he wasn't sure if the neighbours won't notice the light. But all the furnitures were already taken from the house, so he only had to watch out for the walls and built-in cupboards.

After a moment he was feeling confident enough, and took a few steps.

Okay, he's not gonna fall down.

Boy took out his EMF. He wasn't getting any readings, but he wasn't discouraged. He slowly went to the next room, device still in his hand.

Still nothing.

Achilles sighed. He wondered if the boy was even still here.

But when he went to the stairs, he started getting something. It was stronger the higher he was going, and he could feel how his heart was beating faster with every step.

He turned off an EMF, because he didn't want to be distracted. He decided to rely on his senses now.

When Achilles entered the floor, he was met with a corridor full of closed doors. He approached the nearest, and took a deep breath.

He was excited, he felt like it was his lucky night.

Boy put his hand at the doorknob, getting ready to open it, and hopefully see the ghost.

"What are you doing here?"

Achilles screamed.

He immediately turned in the direction of the voice, and then he saw him.

Boy was probably around his age. Dark curls were surrounding his face, looking very soft. From what he was able to see in the dark, boy was wearing loose jeans and a t-shirt. Nothing special.

But Achilles was looking at him as if he was the eighth World Wonder, trying to calm his pounding heart.

"You can see me," boy said, clearly surprised.

"I can hear you," Achilles answered, awestruck. "You're Patroclus, right?"

"How do you know that?" Ghost was looking at him suspiciously. "And who are you? Why do you see me when no one else could?"

Achilles couldn't stop the smile. It was so exciting.

"I'm Achilles. I'm a paranormal investigator, and I was always able to see ghosts. I never talked to any, though."

Patroclus furrowed his brows.

"A ghost hunter? So you wanna record me on tape now or something?"

"No, like I said, I'm a paranormal investigator. I don't hunt ghosts, I investigate. I only wanna talk."

"About?"

"Everything! I could see ghosts since I was a kid, but you're the first one to talk to me, so anything would be fine."

He was so happy, he was almost shaking.

Patroclus shook his head.

"You're a weird one."

"At least I'm not dead."

There was a moment of silence. Ghost was looking at him with big eyes, and Achilles was cursing his own stupidity. He died not so long ago, it was probably still a delicate matter.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to..."

The spirit shrugged.

"Well, I guess you're right. After all, I am dead."

"But I shouldn't be insensitive dick about it."

"At least you're self-aware."

Boy tried his best not to laugh, especially, when he noticed a little smile on Patroclus face, that was telling him that the ghost was joking, and all was forgiven.

"Let's start again, okay? I'm Achilles."

"Hi, I'm Patroclus. It's nice to meet you."

They became friends.

Achilles was felling lucky, because apparently no one wanted to buy the house, so he was allowed to sneak in every two or three nights, and spend time with his new ghost friend.

Patroclus didn't know the answers to his questions. He was a young ghost, he had no idea why he was still here, if there was anything other possible than being a ghost, why he couldn't leave the house... He was as clueless as Achilles was.

But somehow it didn't matter.

They spend nights talking about themselves and their lives. They were coming up with weird conspiracy theories. Bickering. Laughing. Once, when Patroclus told him about his favourite book, Achilles brought it the next time he came, and they were reading it together.

"I never would have thought that I'm gonna be friends with a ghost," Achilles said one night, smiling widely at the other boy.

They were lying on the floor in the old boy's room, their legs leaning on the wall. Near their heads was standing a single candle, that was throwing a shaky light on their faces. It was safe, Achilles checked twice that because of the tree near the window, it was impossible to see the light from the outside, and that way they were able to see each other's faces better.

"I never would have thought that I'm gonna be friends with anyone."

Boy turned to see that Patroclus was having a nostalgic look in his eyes.

"Pat..."

"But I'm really happy that I have you here."

He smiled softly at Achilles, and boy returned it.

He also was happy to have him. Patroclus was one of his closest friends.

But as the time was passing, more obstacles were growing, and that relationship was becoming a little troublesome.

For starters, the fact that if Achilles was sitting with Patroclus, it meant that he wasn't sleeping.

He was growing more and more tired, because of those all nighters. He was trying to get sleep whenever he could, but his body was fighting with him, wanting a full night of sleep.

They started arguing about it.

"You need more sleep."

"I'm perfectly fine."

"Achilles, you're barely standing!"

"I'm gonna rest tomorrow after classes."

"That's not healthy, you need to sleep at night."

"I'm not gonna give up on you just for some stupid sleep!"

"It's about your health! It's more important!"

"Nothing is more important than you!"

Patroclus was always smiling softly at that.

"Just don't come tomorrow. Rest and come the next night. I'm not going anywhere, you know? I'm always gonna wait for you here, so you can take care and sleep sometimes."

And Achilles couldn't argue with he was getting like that.

"Okay, I promise I will sleep."

The fact that they couldn't leave the house, and had to make sure that no one sees Achilles, also wasn't making it easier.

Police came to check the house on several occasions, meaning they weren't as discreet as they wished to be. Thankfully, officers were always coming during the day, when Achilles was long gone (apparently they weren't in a hurry, when it was about an empty house). But they found the picked lock, and searched the house. When they didn't find anything or anyone they just informed the owners.

Patroclus was full of hope that he's gonna see his parent again, but they didn't come. Only locksmith came, to install a new lock.

Ghost was sad, and Achilles had to find a new way to get into the house.

Apparently he was indeed very lucky, because one of the windows in the basement was loose. And when it looked completely fine at the first glance, with a little push, he was able to open it and get in. But it wasn't half as comfortable as going through the door.

Thanks to the fact that house seemed to be locked, but neighbours were still reporting seeing someone inside, some started believe that it was haunted.

That was actually a good thing, because it wasn't helping with selling the house. And both boys were afraid what will happen if, or rather when, the house gets sold one day.

But the thing, that soon became their biggest problem, was the physical distance.

They tried touching at the beginning of this, sure. They were curious. But it was impossible. Achilles' hands were going through Patroclus, as if he wasn't even there.

They couldn't offer each other any kind of physical comfort, when the other was sad. When Achilles fell, Patroclus couldn't offer him a hand to get up. They weren't able to even sit shoulder to shoulder while talking. It was getting frustrating in the long run.

It was nobody's fault, so they weren't talking about it, but they both were annoyed.

Even if Achilles wondered if it really would be better, if he would be able to touch Pat. Hide him inside his arms, caress his cheek, move hair from his face, maybe kiss... No. When he was getting this thoughts, he was hiding his face in his hands, and pressing hard, until he saw white spots behind his eyelids.

Patroclus was his friend. Nothing more.

But despite all those things, most of the time they were happy. They cared about each other, they liked spending time together. It was fun to talk about Achilles' day, or Patroclus' stories from childhood. To talk about stars and books. Fool around the empty house. They needed each other and were happy together.

Or at least that was what Achilles believed.

Because as abruptly as their friendship started, it ended.

Nothing was indicating the fact that after almost a year since they met, Achilles is gonna enter now familiar house, to find it truly empty.

He was looking for Patroclus everywhere. Calling his name. He thought that maybe it was a game. But after an hour he lost that hope. Pat wouldn't make him wait so long. Especially not after Achilles' voice started breaking on his name.

Boy stayed in the house for the night, hoping that maybe the ghost will show up.

He didn't.

But Achilles still came back the next night.

And again he searched the house, calling his friend's name. But there was no answer.

On the third night, Achilles wasn't even searching. He just sat there and started crying. His tears were hot on his cheeks. He felt like he was choking on them. But Patroclus still didn't come.

On the fourth night, he brought his equipment, and searched the house once again. But the readings were inconsistent, and sometimes weren't making any sense. Boy had no idea if this was caused by the fact that ghost was still there, or that they spend so many time all around the house, and his energy was still lingering.

On the fifth night, Achilles was too tired. He didn't even have energy to get out of bed, let alone go to the house.

On the sixth and seventh night, he was just sitting in old Patroclus' room, looking at the empty walls.

On the eight and ninth night, he was laying flat on the floor in the living room, looking at the ceiling.

After two weeks he finally gave up.

Achilles stopped coming to the house.

He understood it was over. The moments he spent with Patroclus were amazing, but they were stolen. And they couldn't change the destiny.

After all, the boy and the ghost... They were never meant to be.


End file.
